


Three Words

by Pookaseraph



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Blood, F/M, World of Ruin, Worldbuilding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-01
Updated: 2017-11-01
Packaged: 2019-01-28 01:33:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,364
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12595096
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pookaseraph/pseuds/Pookaseraph
Summary: A mission into the Dark gone wrong leads to an unenviable choice.





	Three Words

**Author's Note:**

> I made myself cry...

When the Dark first began to sweep across Eos, Iris had been something of a child, young and a little protected, hidden from the worst of what was to come by her father. The first day the sun set and didn't rise again was the hardest: her father dead, her prince missing, her country fallen, a year of struggle and frustration finally yielded into unending night.

Time was measured by precisely calibrated clocks, as it could no longer be measured by the passing of days and seasons. It was easy to feel as though time stood still for her, that she was _still_ a child, that she still had far too much growing to do, and the Dark was several years in before she realized she was an adult, that she was...

"Captain! Lady Iris!"

She glanced over to where Talcott was standing. It was easier to see the years in him. He'd shot up like a weed, now far taller than her even though he wasn't as old as she had been when the Dark had fallen. "Just Captain," she assured him, for what felt like the thousandth time.

"You'll always be Lady Iris, too," he said, but he smiled. The smile grew sober immediately. "We've had reports from Mynbrum, they had an attack and not enough anti-plasmodial to go around... things are tense. The Marshal is coordinating the load up as we speak, he figured you'd want in."

"You're damn right," she answered. "Thanks, Talcott. Get Dave and tell him I'll need him to man the fort."

She was gone before his confirmation, running to the supply room and she shoved on her flak jacket and quickly stripped and redressed in longer pants to keep herself more covered from scratches that might carry the Scourge.

When she arrived at the air transport docked at the old Overlook, Cor put his head out of the side and made a gesture for her to hurry. She hopped on, and it was only a few moments before Cor loudly banged his hand against the cockpit door. "Get us up!"

The vertical takeoff jolted them and Iris lurched into Cor before they both staggered to the seats and buckled in. Wordlessly, Cor drew out a pair of pills, offering his hand to Iris and Iris took one of them before dry swallowing it, and Cor followed just after.

It was their only salvation: anti-plasmodial treatments. The explanation was long and complicated, and Iris had never much followed it, but from what she understood: nothing but the Oracle could cure the Scourge in a body once it had taken root; Doc Sanya had taken much of the research from Niflheim that Prompto had brought back to discover the similarity to a tropical disease called malaria; once rarely produced, a huge portion of their medical manufacturing now went to antiseptics and antimalarial drugs. Prophylactic treatment was taken by all Hunters out in the field, and a little scrape or cut exposed to daemon dust would rarely take root in the body with those safeguards.

It was different if someone got mauled, however, the massive blood exposure usually meant the disease could take root and would transform the infected in days. At that point, their only potential salvation was the Six, in the form of elixirs crafted by the remaining Kingsglaive. A day or so of grace existed, but from there... from there it was too late.

The first time it had happened before her eyes, Cor had been beside her and he gave her one command: 'turn away'. To her disgrace she did, and she could still remember the sickening sound of rending of flesh that had come from behind her, the thud of the body, and the writhing blackness that had oozed from the body when she turned back.

The second time, she didn't look away, and Cor stood their, stone faced, as he sliced down the rapidly daemonifying Hunter. She vomited after and Cor had rubbed her back, not saying a word, even though Iris was frustrated with herself. She should have been comforting the man who had to do the deed, not making it worse for him.

Their response times had been better since then, but the worst did still happen. Massive infection meant that sometimes they arrived too late, one or more of the men already turned, or even worse the attempt to save one doomed a dozen others. Sick and sad and monstrous as it was, men and women would have their arms lashed behind their backs even as they bled to assure that the turned daemon wouldn't have the upper hand. They were set just at the edge of a Haven, daemons, often the ones who had caused the injury themselves, circled tight around, watching their prey like a scavenger. 

A hand on her shoulder startled Iris from her introspection, and she turned to Cor, giving him a weak smile. His answering smile was stronger, and the two of them nodded.

There was to be no happy ending that day. When they arrived, a half-dozen men around the fire at Mynbrum sat placidly, not even raising to help Cor and Iris when the transport landed, and they lugged the dozen packed vials off of the carrier.

Finally, one of them did. Iris didn't recognize the man at a distance, but he rose slowly, and shuffled down along the edge of the Haven and the others followed after. They were halfway through the short walk to the Haven when the mistake became obvious.

"Run," Cor said.

Iris clung to the box and looked behind her, a Giant suddenly groaning into existence and shutting off her escape. Protocol was instantly followed: the shuttle was off the ground before the door was even closed. Iris turned back toward the Haven and was off at a sprint. The men, the things that had been their men, screeched and converged on the two of them.

The box made her clunky, and an arm reached out for her and she hopped away, only to fall into the grasp of another, claws digging in deep, tearing into the flesh of her left bicep and shoving her to the ground. The box of supplies clattered down, hard, and Iris heard the tell-tale sound of shattered glass and a puff of the blue magic escaped, staggering the hunter-daemons around her, but doing nothing to halt the progress of the Scourge in their bodies.

She ran, playing a deadly game of tag that ended up with her back pressed against the walls of Mynbrum, gasping for breath. Iris shoved the box up onto the rocks of the Haven, hoping to the Six that at least a few vials remained. When she looked back, she saw that Cor was overrun. Intentional or not, they had wound up in the midst of an ambush, and she looked to see the Giant backhand Cor and a handful of daemons with its massive sword, sending Cor flying yards across yards of open ground and leaving him stumbling, struggling to right himself.

Iris didn't yell for him, as much as she wanted to. It would only distract him, and her heart hammered in her chest as she ran toward him, tonfas in her hands, battering away the imps and turned Hunters who clawed at Cor. She slammed the weapons into the various daemons, brushing them aside like crackling, dead leaves. The little flashlight on her chest showed the worst of it, dozens of deep gouges littered Cor's chest.

"Go," he whispered.

"No." She grabbed him by the scruff of his flak jacket and started to yank him toward the Haven.

Cor was unable to do much more than leave his arms up, using them to batter away the worst of the attacks, but Iris knew he must have gained even more scratches in the attempt. It felt like hours, dragging him the scant yards to the Haven, tugging him and righting him against the Haven walls. She levered herself up and over, onto the raised rocks, looking down at the blood that oozed from her left arm.

Don't think about that just yet, she told herself. She yanked at Cor again, pulling him up into the soft glow of the Haven runes. It was bad. Iris tended to Cor first, unzipping the tattered remains of the flak vest.

"Tie me," he said. Iris ignored him, handling him roughly to strip him of vest and then tore apart his shirt. "Iris, damn it." 

"Shut up," she snapped. Her hands patted down his thighs and shins, finding too many scrapes. She took a deep breath and unbuckled his pants as well, yanking down his slacks and then leaving the boots to thud against the rock.

There was blood and ichor everywhere, and Iris knew that Cor's chances were... not good.

"... Iris."

Finally she complied, rolled him gently, and bound him around the biceps and again at the wrists, setting him back on his arms and leaving him trussed up like that. He relaxed, even as Iris knew he must have been in extreme pain.

"You're bleeding," he said.

She ripped at the shirt, yanking away the blood-and-scourge stained cloth to reveal the deep gouges there. Nothing to do but face the truth, she took the box of elixirs... and pried open the box, all of them had tumbled... all but one had broken, their contents spilled along the bottom of the box, their magic expended.

Iris looked down at that single vial, and then back to Cor. He didn't know, she reminded herself... if he knew he would never drink it... She took the vial in hand and walked over to him, uncapping it and taking his head in her hand, tilting him and silently urging him to drink it down, and he did... when the final swallows disappeared past his lips, Iris let out a relieved sigh.

From there she began to clean his wounds, removing the debris and dirt and ichor with alcohol.

"Iris...," he said, his wits mostly back. "Did you... where's your vial?"

"The rest of them broke," she said, voice hard.

"What?" His face was far from calm after that. "Wh-- damn it, Iris. I'm a long shot. I'm fucked..."

She turned away, blinking away tears. "I know."

"You barely got scratched," he continued. "What were you thinking?!"

She couldn't say what she was thinking, couldn't put it into words. Saying it now was too cruel to herself... to him... so she just continued to work at his injuries, antiseptic and potions, antiseptic and potions. What little royal blood she had by simple intermarriage between Shield and King over the years had given her enough of that spark to make simple potions from most anything, and she used that to good effect now, water soaked compresses became potions strong enough to begin to mend the cuts in Cor's chest and along his legs.

She worked silently, ignoring Cor as he continued to rail and fume, as he continued to argue as though somehow his words would undrink the elixir he'd taken and give it to Iris. Finally, every wound treated, Iris slashed open the bindings on Cor's arms, and then tucked him gently under a medical blanket.

He stayed their for less than a heartbeat, shoving aside the blanket and sitting up. 

"Get over here you idiot," he said, and he began the slow work of cleaning the injury in her upper arm. Each wipe of alcohol revealed exactly how deep the wounds were. He cleaned her, and took the bandages, waiting for Iris to add the touch of healing to them, and then he wrapped her arm tight, tying it neatly, and then stumbling over to the box.

No doubt he saw what Iris had already known, every vial smashed... "Six damn it...," he said. Finally he fished out a vial that had cracked and spilled but a large swallow had remained within the glass tube.

He held it out, and Iris didn't have the heart to remind him that much of the magic was gone. Instead she took it and knocked her head back, swallowing it down. Another few drops from another vial, and Iris waited as Cor provided drop after drop of elixir, as much as he could find, his hands growing more and more frantic as he realized how little liquid was even still drinkable.

Finally, she came up to him and placed a hand on his back. "Cor..."

When he looked up at her, she saw tears in his eyes, something she didn't think she'd even seen before. "Please," he begged her, he put a hand out, cupping her cheek. "I can't lose you."

That was what caused her to finally cry, tears falling from her eyes as she shook her head. "How do you think I feel?"

"I'm a washed up soldier," he said. "Iris, I... please, hold on, you have... you have so much to live for..."

She did, she knew that, maybe it was selfish, but... she didn't want to imagine doing this without Cor. Eventually he lashed her up in her own blanket, rolled tight, partially to keep the chills down, but Iris was more than aware that it would make her an easy target if she turned.

Sitting by the fire, report made, Gladio back in Lestallum trying frantically to get even more elixir out into the field... to even get it _made_ , and Iris found herself wrapped up in Cor's arms, the man tugging her close and squeezing her tight.

He didn't say anything else, he just held her, and Iris could _feel_ his arms trying to squeeze life and fight into her.

"Do you remember when this all started?" he asked, finally, what must have been at least an hour later.

"Which part?" she answered with a question of her own.

"When you looked over at me and started cussing about Insomnia?"

She chuckled. It had only been a few weeks after the attack in Altissia, and Iris knew that the city was ripe for the taking but they couldn't hold it. The guys hadn't even gotten back from Niflheim, Noct hadn't disappeared into the Crystal... "You earned it. I was so naive... to think we could keep it going smoothly."

"Hopeful," he corrected. "Your hope... that's the best part of you."

"And the worst?" she asked.

"You knew I wouldn't have--"

"That's why I didn't tell you," she answered. "Cor... I... I know you must be mad, I just..." She curled up into him, she couldn't touch him with her hands so she just leaned close. "I have longer, you know that. It's deep but it's just a scratch. You would have started to go by now..."

"You're too capable to throw your life on the line for some... washed up..."

"I love you," she blurted. Too cruel or not, if one of them was going to die... 

"I..." Cor said nothing.

"I know it's stupid," she continued. "I know you're too old for me, and you probably don't feel the same, but... I do... Maybe you do crazy, stupid things because of love, but... you know Gladdy would miss me, the guys, but... they don't need me the way Lestallum needs you..."

"You..." Cor tugged her in. "You beautiful, stupid, self-sacrificing idiot. I..." He returned to silence, the crackle of the fire lasting far too long. "I would have done the same, you know... given you the last vial... living while you didn't... I've done that so, so many times in my life, Iris and I... I..."

Silence fell again.

"This would be the one that breaks me..."

"You...?" She looked up.

He closed his eyes, and nodded, and then his hands came to her head and pulled her close. "So hold on, please... If you love me, hold on."

"I will," she promised. "Would you... would you say it?"

Cor brought his lips to the top of her head, then closer, so close that his lips almost brushed the edges of her ear, and he said it, so soft, not even a whisper... as though he was scared the wind would hear... "I... I love..." He choked on his words, Iris heard the tears and then felt them against her shoulder...

"Tell me again... when we're together and home."

He nodded. "I will." 

They stayed like that... the shivery chills of the parasitic infection started to work on their body. The already cold, sunless night grew colder, Cor lashed them tighter to each other, they rolled to pull themselves into a wrap, to make it almost impossible for them to move. They would be easy pickings like that... the hunters that found them would have no challenge...

Iris told herself as long as she still loved Cor she wasn't a daemon and she stayed tight to him, mumbling little more than the word, over and over again... and Cor answered with his own mantra ... her name...

It was an odd feeling, as though she was awake but falling asleep, so dead tired that she couldn't keep her eyes open, even as she could see out of them. Her mind, Iris, was slowly fading...

Something warm pressed at her lips, and she instinctively sucked and swallowed at it, and it felt icy going down, and then like she was on fire, burning burning burning...

The spasmed, the violent twitch that came when you startled yourself awake, but she didn't open her eyes, something was peeled away from them.

"Gladdy!"

Her brother exhaled in relief.

"Where's Cor?" She scrambled, peeling away her blanket and seeing he was still there, lying on his back, eyes open... a tiny, barely there, hint of red on the edges of his blue eyes. "Cor..." She reached out and touched his cheek, rubbing it to warm it. Beside him she could see the vial she'd fed him, and another that had been added just recently by one of the other Hunters. "Is there more?" she asked.

Cor had been savaged, Iris was worried all the treatments in the world couldn't save him, but she wanted to give him as good a shot as she could.

Gladio shook his head. "Lestallum is out... we're working on more, but it won't be available for days."

She rubbed his cheek more. "Cor... please..."

Iris looked around, the few people who were there in the Haven, who had come to save the day, turned away, and Iris's brother set a hand to them and started to shove them gently toward the transport, leaving Iris and Cor alone as she waited to see if the treatment was enough... and in time.

"Cor," she said his name again, and again, more and more frantic, more and more terrified. He had to be there, he had to, he had to, he had to, he had to, he had to....

Those terrifying red-ringed eyes blinked, and then... gone, replaced with bright blue. "Iris?"

"Oh gods," she gasped, leaning into him and she started to cry. "Oh gods, Cor... please say something else."

"How are you feeling?"

Her sobs turned to laughter. "I'm more than fine now. How are _you_ feeling?"

Cor shrugged a little, as much as he could while balled in the blankets. "Better now," he answered, and then a shy little smile followed. "The view is excellent."

She giggled. "You... you owe me three words."

He seemed to think for a moment, before he said: "Let's go home."

Her face fell... had he just said it to keep her fighting? Did he not remember...?

"I'll come up with the other three when we get there," he promised, and her giggle became a sob once more and she hugged him and didn't know when she stopped crying.

Hours later, after they were back in Lestallum and stitched up properly, Cor took her to the Overlook, tucked behind supply crates, and he wrapped his arms around her as they looked out over the Dark.

Cor whispered those three words into the Dark, against her ear... private and just for them.

"Don't make me do this alone," she whispered after a soft kiss.

"I'll try."


End file.
